


Family Hour

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for Founder's Mutation (sort of).  A little family together time in the Mulder-Scully, highly remarkable house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Hour

When Scully comes home from work, she expects William to be showered, pajamas on, homework finished, ready for bed. It’s a school night. Instead, Scully trudges through the back door, briefcase of research material heavy in her hand, and hears the TV on in the den. The smell of burnt popcorn lingers in the air and the remnants of a pizza dinner are evident by the napkins and plates on the counter, cheesy pieces of crust stuck to one of the plates, smeared with red sauce. William hates the crusts.

 

Scully drops off her suitcase in her office and removes her blazer, exasperated and not even home for two minutes. She hates playing bad cop, but she also hates coming home to a messy house and dealing with a cranky first grader that didn’t get enough sleep. Kicking her heels off is a little bit of a relief and she flexes her toes to get the circulation going before moving to the den.

 

The back of the couch faces the entryway, and the only thing Scully can see, aside from 2001: A Space Odyssey playing on the TV, is the back of Mulder’s head. “Mulder,” she says, stepping up to the couch as Mulder cranes his neck back to look at her.

 

“Hey,” Mulder whispers, putting a finger up to his lips.

 

As Scully leans over, she can see William, snuggled into Mulder’s side, head on his father’s shoulder, mouth slack, sleeping like a baby. She softens and bends down to kiss Mulder’s upturned lips. “He should be in bed,” she says quietly.

 

“I know, but 2001 was on and I thought it was high time our progeny be exposed to not only classic cinema, but a piece which will expose his young, impressionable mind to theories of evolution, extraterres-“

 

Scully cuts Mulder off with another kiss, muffling the remainder of his argument. She doesn’t really care. She knows how much he loves sharing things with his son. He doesn’t need excuses for it. When she pulls away, she chuckles a little when she sees that one of William’s hands is still inside the popcorn bowl.

 

“Don’t be mad, Mom,” Mulder says.

 

“I’m not mad,” she answers, shifting around the side of the couch and easing down into the free space next to Mulder. He reaches out and rubs her back when she sits down and rolls her neck from side to side.

 

“Long day?” he asks.

 

“Mm.” She shifts and lays her head in Mulder’s lap, curling up in the small space. He strokes her hair back and then squeezes her shoulder. “If he has any nightmares from this, you’re getting up in the middle of the night.”

 

“He was asleep before the Discovery One even left for Jupiter.”

 

“I suppose I should just be glad it’s not Plan 9 From Outer Space.”

 

“He’s seen that one about ten times since preschool.”

 

Scully smiles against Mulder’s thigh and rubs her nose against his jeans. She doesn’t believe him, but wouldn’t put it past him either.

 

“You should actually be grateful it’s not The Lazarus Bowl," he says. "That was on HBO last week.”

 

“Oh God,” Scully groans, squeezing her eyes shut in disgust. She leaves her eyes closed as Mulder runs his fingers through her hair. Minutes roll by, the movie plays on, and William lets out a snore against Mulder’s chest. They both laugh softly and Mulder disengages his fingers from Scully’s hair to rub his son’s head.

 

“Like father like son,” Scully said.

 

“I think you mean like mother like son,” he counters. “You’ve been snoring on me since 1992.”

 

“I have not.”

 

“Lift up, I’m going to put the offspring to bed.”

 

Scully pushes up from Mulder’s lap and leans back against the couch. Mulder takes William’s hand out of the popcorn bowl and passes it over to Scully. He slides off the couch, adjusting the boy in his arms to make as smooth of a transition as possible and heads off towards the stairs.

 

Blanching in disgust from the handful of cold popcorn she pops in her mouth, Scully puts the bowl on the coffee table and then searches the couch for the remote. She finally finds it dug into the crack between the cushions and turns the TV off. Her knees crack as she stands and stretches the muscles in her back.

 

On her way out of the den, Scully turns off the lights. She untucks her blouse from her skirt as she moves upstairs and in the direction of William’s room. Mulder is coaxing a sleepy, mumbling William into pajamas. He has the nightshirt – which is actually one of Mulder’s old t-shirts – over William’s head, but is struggling to get the little boy’s arms through the sleeves since William is trying to curl up into a ball.

 

“Need a hand?” Scully asks, sitting down next to William and gently pulling him up so he leans against her chest. Together, they finish getting him into his pajamas and Scully rocks him gently as Mulder turns down the sheets on one side so they can slip him under the covers.

 

“Night, Spawn,” Mulder says, kissing William’s head.

 

When Mulder finishes, Scully leans over and lays her cheek against William’s head and then kisses his ear. “Sweet dreams,” she whispers.

 

Mulder flips on the space rocket nightlight on William’s wall and turns out the light. He holds the door open for Scully and she steps under his arm into the hall. He lingers for a moment and then closes the door to his son’s room, leaving it open just a crack. He pushes his sleeves up and heads towards the stairs.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scully asks, catching her finger into one of the belt loops on Mulder’s jeans and tugging him to a stop.

 

“Kitchen’s a mess,” he says.

 

“Leave it.” She steps up against him and moves up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his neck.

 

“Leave it?”

 

“Leave it,” she says again, giving his belt loop another yank before she turns to the direction of their own room. She trusts he’ll follow.

 

The End


End file.
